I was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief when she dropped me off. As I entered the building, I was hit with a cold wave of air. I walked along a long row of side offices across a shiny linoleum floor. It was all very government-like. This is where Angela worked.
The mayor’s office was at the end of the hall. When I reached it, the huge double-sided wooden doors swung open. Mayor Hamonte towered over me, looking down at me with a fake smile. He was a tall, ghoulish-looking man with ice-cold blue eyes and a fading hairline, with only a few white strands hanging on for dear life.
“Come on in, Lenny. Good to see you. Sorry it took so long to speak with you. I do have a town to run.” I smiled sheepishly as a strange mix of pine and antibacterial soap wafted through my nose as I stepped inside and sat on a comfy, plush chair.
The wood floors in his office gleamed brightly under the humming fluorescent lights, just adding to the unease I was feeling inside. I noticed the photo on his desk with his son, Henry. They were near a sunny beach, holding up their fishing catches—two salmon. I was sure that Mayor Hamonte missed his son dearly; at least now he had an answer—George had murdered him.
Mayor Hamontetook a seat behind his desk, his posture stiff, his grin tighter than his black suit. His eyes had a glint of evil. The words of a dead man echoed in my ears:“He’s corrupt…do not trust him.”
“It’s such terrible business,” he said, his voice insincere with pity. “Tragic, really. But at least I can rest easy knowing George St. Nicklaus was the monster behind my son’s murder. I feel for Clara…all tangled up in that miserable mess.” He leaned forward. “I know you worked for the man, but don’t worry—we know you had nothing to do with the atrocity that took place. I know your mind is on Angela, but I assure you that Detective Castillo is doing all she can to find this depraved Xmas Day Butcher.” He sighed heavily and stretched backward. “It’s absolute madness, Lenny. A severed foot in the town square, a missing person reappearing—dead… an evil game being played right before Christmas. I swear—this town’s cursed.”
I raised my eyebrows in surprise; that caught my attention. “Well, yes, sir. I’d have to agree with you. I believe there’s a conspiracy involving Clara and Angela…I think the Xmas Day Butcher has been involved all along. He’s sent some “gifts,” as I’m sure you know. I just hope they can be identified with some sort of DNA swab.”
He nodded at me, half-listening. “Unfortunately, I don’t think the police department in Whisper’s Creek is able to accomplish that at this time, but we are actively trying to find Angela and the person responsible for her abduction.”
Why does that sound like a whole lot of hot air?
I didn’t know what else to say at the moment. “That is my hope as well.”
Mayor Hamonte stood up and stretched his legs. He stared out his window, the one that gave a view of the town’s square. “Angela’s a brilliant woman. She is a person with an amazing mind—someone who looks toward the future of this town. Whisper’s Creek owes her a debt, and we must repay it by finding her.”
To me, that sounded like a man who had no idea what was going on. He seemed to be putting on a show to keep me and the town at ease. In reality, I was sure he was freaking out internally, not knowing what to do. Or, maybe it was something else entirely—a dark secret he was hiding. Maybe it had something to do with his supposed connection to Doctor Tuttle.
When I saw a framed photo on the wall of Mayor Hamonte with Angela, Clara, Henry, Joseph, and a few other residents, my mind wandered back to last December’s Christmas party in the Town Hall—the one I had missed out on due to an illness.
I pointed at the photo. “Clara was there that night, wasn’t she?” I asked.
He turned around, snapping his finger at me. “Yes, she was. It’s such a shame. It was a fun night, but now, it’s forever tainted by the memory of her disappearance followed by her mysterious death.” He sat back down, the weight of his grief sagging his shoulders down. “No one knows what happened to the poor girl. She must’ve slipped out before the party ended. George believed that Henry did something to her, but that’s not the case. Makes sense that he did it, just like how he killed my son. You know how he was—controlling, angry…so much hate in his heart.”
I nodded slowly, not wanting to disagree with him outright. “Listen, Lenny—I’m planning on a press release detailing the formal investigation into the death of my son and Clara’s. We’ll be concluding that George murdered them both, due to his confession, but we wanted you to make a statement concerning his character, since you worked with him for quite a while. Is that alright?”
I thought it was a very strange ask, but then I realized that’s why he wanted me to visit him in the first place. He wanted me to help him form a narrative that George had not only murdered Henry, but he had also murdered his own daughter, Clara, even if there wasn’t any concrete evidence that supported that.
A ball of dread formed in my gut, telling me something was very off. The way Mayor Hamonte stared at me—he made it seem like I didn’t have an option to say “no.”
“I understand, Mayor, but what about George’s murder?” I dared to ask. “Is the investigation still open on that?”
He nodded strongly. “Oh, absolutely. We still don’t know who sunk that axe into him. It’s a very messy, horrific situation all around, and we’re trying to keep our ducks in order. I’ll have an assistant visit you in your home in the coming weeks to prepare that statement.” He stood up and stuck out his hand to be shaken.
I obliged him, even if I felt like he was a man who was completely full of shit. “Okay, that sounds good with me. Hopefully Angela has returned by then, and this Xmas Day Butcher has been apprehended.”
Mayor Hamontewaved me off with a fake smile. “Thank you very much for your cooperation, Lenny.” He walked around his desk and opened the door for me as I walked out. He quickly closed it. I didn’t trust that guy one bit.
I wasn’t planning on leaving just yet. I wanted to check Angela’s office. I took a sharp right, down a short hall, and found the door that said:ANGELA FROST. I opened the door quietly and got inside, slowly shutting it.
The air inside was familiar; it smelled like a sweet aroma of flowers. That scent followed Angela everywhere, and I recognized it anywhere. I scanned around her office, and everything lookeduntouched. I wondered if Detective Castillo had even bothered to check anything.
As I looked at the framed picture of us on her desk, the past came rushing back. A joyous memory—one I was happy to remember.
She’d come bursting into our house three winters ago, her rosy cheeks red from the cold, a gust of snow and sweet perfume trailing behind her. Angela’s dark eyes had that gleaming light in them—the kind that made you lose yourself in them.
“Lenny,” she said, voice full of excitement. “I got the job. I’ll be working with Mayor Hamonte. I’m going to make a difference.”
I wrapped my arms around her tightly. “That’s so wonderful, honey. Congratulations, Angela. You deserve it more than anyone.”
She talked about reform and change—rebuilding Whisper’s Creek into a thriving small town. I’d believed her, too. I wanted change, for things to be better; that’s all people want.
Only weeks later, she’d sat across from me at our dinner table, shoulders slumped, her eyes tired. “The politics here…” she whispered, “It’s filthy. The mayor plays it better than anyone; that’s how he consolidated his power. But I won’t stop pressing for change.”
